


The years bring meaning (You mean the world to me)

by Hawkkitty44



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gay Panic, Growing Up Together, M/M, Not Fp friendly, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 00:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17970980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkkitty44/pseuds/Hawkkitty44
Summary: Jarchie growing up. From the beginning to the end.





	The years bring meaning (You mean the world to me)

There were no happy simple endings for people like him. You went through life trying, but in the end, success wasn’t meant for kids who were raised in trailer parks with rarely sober fathers. Maybe it was the nihilism, maybe it was something he just told himself so he wouldn’t try and find himself hurt at how he couldn’t try hard enough. No, he could never risk trying only to fail.

People like him found success in drugs and maybe the odd ironic statement of maybe things will better though he was lucky, luckier than he ever had the right to be. His luck began the day he was six, his dad finally called someone to get help it wouldn’t last too much longer, but on that cold day, his life changed.

Emotions are hard to understand when you can barely understand your own sense of self. On that day however, it was like something changed, he changed. Brown eyes looking from the back of a truck are different, kind. Kind but in the same way the lady down at the food place looks at him when his dad needs to get some cans to hold them over to pay day. A small smile and a wave follow the raised bushy brow and Jughead can only stare.

“Don’t mind red, he’s apparently just like his dad. Real fricking gentleman like” his dad bitterly says under his breath. Lightly flinching at his dads tone he hates that he knows where this could go. “Best you go back inside, don’t need to scare the boy now”.

A heavy hand is placed on his head and as fingers go into his wild black head there isn’t long too consider his dads words as he is pulled towards the door. Softly whining about the pain his dad is a bit rougher than usual as he pulls Jughead into the house. Maybe he was right, the other was probably being nice because he looked stupid. Poor. That’s what his dad probably meant anyway.

The door is opened, and he is pushed past it before he has much of a chance to get his balance. A sharp thud and a swift hit to the door is more than enough for the young boy to know he is not welcome back outside. Typical. Rubbing his cheeks, he doesn’t want to think about what his dad is going to say later.

Walking into the lounge room the smell hits him, just how much did his father drink that morning? Ignoring how his stomach ached at the smell he is walking over to one of the couches, it has a bottle on it. Multiple, but at least one will have enough in it for his father to care about it being just on the couch like that. So like habit he is bending down and grabbing a bag from under the small cabinet. Opening the bag with a grunt he is stuffing all the empty bottles in the bag; would they have to go to the dump later?

Putting the bag on the floor before he drops it Jughead’s attention is quickly placed back on the bottle. Of course, there wasn’t the cap nearby, his father had a habit of drinking like he wasn’t going to stop till it was done. It was nice that he could do it for something, finish something till the end. Grasping the bottle via its neck the young man is strolling into the kitchen, the sink is filled to its brim with dirty dishes, but it isn’t as bad as usual. Bad, but not the worst.

The plastic things his father keeps on the counter don’t quite fit like they usually do, but he can’t not keep the drink well, so he is trying okay. So, as he is struggling to put the damn thing in the sound of footsteps is the last thing he wants. How could his dad be done so fast? Hands shaking, he puts the drink of the counter to at the very least not drop the damn thing.

The footsteps are quiet. Calm. Not like his dad at all really. Dropping the tension in his shoulders he can’t help but still feel scared as he turns around. Brown kind eyes the ones from the back of the truck. Why was he in here?

“Hey, I know your dad wanted you to clean, but I thought I could help you. My dad said cleaning is easier as a team, so I wanted to be on your team” saying this sweetly with a smile on his face the boy isn’t afraid to take a step closer. “Oh, and I’m Archie”.

“Jughead” he responds with simply. Rubbing his arm, he doesn’t quite know what the appropriate response he should have to someone with such kind intent. “You don’t have to it’s my job around the house, so it’s okay”.

The redhead is looking around the house; it is very clear that the house was beyond filthy. Still the other doesn’t look at him like he crawled out of the sewer, so it isn’t too bad.

“I’m not going to force my help, but there isn’t anything I need to do” the other sounds like he isn’t going to give up.

Rolling his eyes, the raven-haired boy can’t really argue so he just goes back to the bottle on the counter. Yet he can’t help but spare a glance over to the boy who looks pretty damn smug picking up some dishes out of the sink. Shaking his head, he almost wants to laugh. At the very least the plastic thing slips in easier when he adjusts it.

“My dad says I’m going to be here, well sometimes if you’d be okay with that” Archie simply says as he turns on the tap.

“Are you going to be on my chore ‘team’ every time you come over Archie” Jughead jokingly asks as he put the bottle against the wall.

“Yeah, if I’m honest I probably will,” He says back.

The redhead has to leave as he finishes the dishes and if Jughead is honest, he doesn’t know what to think of him.


End file.
